"Jennifer Roberson - Karavans 01 - Karavans" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberson Jennifer)

were tied or hobbled close by; the remuda, the small herd of extra riding horses kept for Jorda and his two
guides, and the draft teams used by the three karavan diviners were picketed farther away with the
horse-master keeping an eye on them. It was not unheard of for thieves to sneak among the wagons, hoping
to find a few items they might later sell. Rhuan and Darmuth prevented that.
He rode his favorite horse, a handsome cream gelding boasting a black-spotted rump and a splattering of
larger black spots spreading across the balance of his body. In the darkness of the grove Rhuan couldnтАЩ t see
Darmuth, but knew he was present. And knew also that Darmuth, because of a duty never spoken of among
the humans, would be watching him as much as he tended the welfare of the karavan.
Though lamps and lanterns had been blown out hours before, a ruddy glow emanated from dying cookfires
scattered throughout the grove. Jorda was not the only karavan-master who camped his folk here; there were
times when the wagons outnumbered the trees. But it was late in the season, and only two karavans
remained. Sennet was leading his out in the morning; JordaтАЩ s departure was set for a day later.
Without warning, RhuanтАЩ s flesh prickled. He felt the hairs rising on his limbs, at the back of his neck. The
ratcheting of the nightsingers abruptly stopped. From under one of the wagons a dog lifted its voice in a howl;
neighboring dogs joined it in a wailing threnody. Within moments Rhuan heard sleepy voices testily calling
out to quiet the noise, some threatening punishment, and one by one each dog fell silent.
The night felt heavy. Rhuan reined in. His skin itched. An accompanying shudder ran the length of his body.
But he made no attempt to rub or shrug away the annoyance. Instead he slipped off his horse, dropped the
reins so the spotted gelding would, as trained, remain in place, and walked to the nearest tree.
Rhuan knelt beside the gnarled roots that broke through the soil. Still the nightsingers held their silence. He
placed his palm against the trunk.
Those in the settlement who knew him, or knew of him, also knew he wasnтАЩ t human, but Shoia, a man born
of a race from a far distant province, a race never seen before in Sancorra. But though it was no secret he
was Shoia, Rhuan refrained from exhibiting all of his gifts. It was one thing to be the subject of much
speculation about what a Shoia could do, and quite another to be feared for his abilities. He desired the trust
of the humans, not their wariness. A guideтАЩ s effectiveness would be lessened if his charges feared or
distrusted him. It was important they not witness this communion between man and tree.
But it was dark beneath this tree, farthest from the fires, and he was shielded by the horse, who dropped his
head to seek out the sparse sprigs of grass that had withstood a barrage of wagon wheels and hooves.
Rhuan spoke softly, using the language heтАЩ d known from birth but never spoke among the humans. Darmuth
would understand it, but then he was no more human than Rhuan; and Brodhi, RhuanтАЩ s kin-in-kind, spoke it
as well. But Brodhi, mercifully, was absent. This was a private moment.
Beneath his palm Rhuan felt the roughness of bark; more deeply, the thrumming of vibrancy and life in the
heart of the wood. The elderling oak was not yet on the verge of death. With grave respect Rhuan sought that
life, sought the sentience, an awareness that humans could never understand.
He jerked his hand away, hissing. His palm tingled unpleasantly. It was not the oak, he knew; elderlings did
no harm, but could be conduits for danger. Their roots ran deep below the surface, cognizant of things
unknown among men. Rhuan felt the prickling awareness bestir the hair on his flesh again, answering the first
faint precursor. Change was coming. A change so profound it would touch even earth and sky and sun.
Humans would suffer. Humans would die. His body knew, even if his own sentience instantly denied the truth.
Certainly Darmuth knew as well. But Darmuth had said nothing. He left it to Rhuan to discover for himself.
Alisanos was coming.
Rhuan rose. The horse raised his head, ears flicking forward like sharp-tipped sentinels. The animals sensed
it. The trees knew it. And now he banished denial and allowed himself to admit the truth. Because by
admitting that truth, he might be able to save human lives before Alisanos took them.
If the humans permit me. Rhuan took up the dangling rein and swung it over the geldingтАЩ s neck. If they
believe me.


Chapter 1